It is the thirteenth day of July, the start of a week that breaks my heart every year since 1988, when Mom died.
She had passed out when she was taken to the hospital on the 13th. On July 17th, she left this life after we had all watched her struggle for days. She had sepsis, and died of septic shock.
Pearl had 7 children, and she was beautiful. She had lost her daddy at age 13, was put in a foster home and suffered quite a bit at the hands of her foster parents just as her sisters did as well.
She never told us about the abuse, but she always was an advocate for anyone who was marginalized. She was a writer, taught all 12 grades in a one room schoolhouse during World War II, and was a fundraiser for Northern Kentucky and Cincinnati charities.
This week, I know my living siblings will all remember her, and grieve as much as I will.
It was terribly sad to say goodbye to Mom while she was dying. She'd been intubated, and the docs couldn't let her talk with us as we stood around her bed, crying.
How frightening it must have been for her, to not know what happened but to know that her condition was so bad she needed a respirator.
At the end, Dad asked her if she wanted to hear Country Roads, their favorite song. She nodded, and he said, to my surprise, "Kim, sing Country Roads for your Mom!"
Of course, I sang it and will never forget the tornado of emotions I felt at that moment.
I'm not a soloist, but by golly I sang the hell outta that John Denver tune!
Now we are approaching that awful day as the calendar brings us to July 17 again.
I'm saying all that to say this, will you please pray for me? I really need it, I need peace.
Love,
Kimmy
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